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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23846203">Unspoken-Prompt 3</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/pseuds/Name1'>Name1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, idiots to lovers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 12:00:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23846203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/pseuds/Name1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How could something unspoken be so loud? There were times it was almost screaming at him ‘tell her, show her, do something’. It screamed at him so loud it was impossible to go another moment, another breath, another second without putting an end to their awkward dance and getting on with it; whatever 'it' was. At other times it would just simmer quietly as if they could happily go on like this forever. The worst part was that it so unpredictable which one would present itself in a given day or even a given hour. It was getting ridiculous.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) &amp; Cara Dune &amp; The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune &amp; The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian Ficathon — April 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Unspoken-Prompt 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi all!<br/>Another Day another prompt for the April Ficathon that's almost over.</p><p>Believe it or not this actually started out with a plot, but this turned out out to be basically an essay on Din's Dialogue with himself :) I have no clue how it happened, but here it is.<br/>Hope you enjoy</p><p> </p><p>Lady_Vibeke -Here's your shared lunch :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How could something unspoken be so loud? There were times it was almost screaming at him ‘tell her, show her, <em>do something’</em>. It screamed at him so loud it was impossible to go another moment, another breath, another second without putting an end to their awkward dance and getting on with it; whatever<em><span class="u"> it</span></em> was. At other times it would just simmer quietly as if they could happily go on like this forever. The worst part was that it so unpredictable which one would present itself in a given day or even a given hour<em>. It was getting ridiculous.</em> They were both on edge, knowing the slightest misstep would bring them crashing down into each other.  What exactly were they both so afraid of? It made no sense. They both felt this <em>thing</em>. It was very real in every way except spoken aloud.</p><p>Though still unspoken, it consumed all of his other senses and it was clear the same went for her. He could see it on her face, hear it in her voice, and feel it in her touch so why did they refuse to speak it out loud or give it name? It was generally accepted that giving a <em>thing</em> a <em>name</em> took away its power, but this was the opposite somehow.  The name of this thing brought them to their knees, so they continued in silence instead. It grew and changed and evolved as the weeks turned into months, but it remained nameless as per their unspoken agreement.</p><p> </p><p>Din thinks it would have been so much easier if it was just sexual attraction. They could work that out easily. Hell, there was not only an easy but also an extremely enjoyable way to deal with that. He was certain there was a strong sexual attraction there, but he couldn't risk everything for one exquisite afternoon of pleasure if Cara might regret it come morning. They were both holding back for a reason, and he had to make sure it was the same one. She was more to him than that and he knew he was more to her as well.</p><p>He was embarrassed to admit though how frequently he thought about that ‘one afternoon of pleasure’ now. It wasn’t even her fault. He knew she wasn't moving like she did, laughing like she did, smiling like she did, or just breathing like she did to drive him to distraction; she just drew him in completely effortlessly. She wasn’t tormenting him on purpose, she was just existing and that was enough to drive him to the point of insanity. Hearing her breathe and watching her pulse drumming under the soft skin of her neck was more than enough to captivate him now. <em>This was getting ridiculous….</em> It was so obvious what they both felt but couldn’t say.  Din had always been a man of few words, but he wondered if he should he try to fumble through some declaration to take the pressure off Cara being the first one to make a move or would that just spook her? Things were so good now and he didn’t want to rock the boat in case he fucked this up. This thing between them didn’t have to be spoken to be real. It was real in every other way. <em>Maybe that was enough.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>This thing between them might have been unspoken but it wasn’t unheard.</p><p>He could hear the affection in her voice as clear as day in their everyday interactions. When she leaned into him and whispered a dirty joke or innuendo more boldly than she used to, he could hear the same desire he felt, very real and longing in her own voice. The banter they had shared from day one grew more and more charged as the months went by; more heated, more sensual, more loaded with promise and not just suggestion.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>This thing between them might have been unspoken but it wasn’t untasted</p><p>The air between them was so heavy he could actually taste the tension on the back of his tongue. He knew the salt of her sweat where it mingled with his on his skin after they sparred. He could almost taste the lemon of her soap she used in the shower and if he focused, he could smell the scent that was uniquely hers lingering on his borrowed shirts she slept in and the pillowcase she used when she rarely slept in her own bunk. When she sat against him watching the kid play, he was surrounded by it as well; it was so rich and so all-encompassing that he could taste it. The thought of putting his mouth on her skin ….. of tasting her lips ……of running his tongue down into the valley between her breasts as they lay in a sweaty heap on the floor…..he had never wanted to taste something so badly before. He craved it, he yearned for it, he was starved for it.</p><p>The way she looked at him didn’t help. She looked at him like she thought the same thoughts he did. He’d catch her staring at his throat and the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips in response was quickly becoming his favorite thing her saw her mouth do. The close runner-up was still the way she bit the corner of her bottom lip when she smirked at him.</p><p>Even something as mundane as sharing lunch together was made special by her. It seemed so simple, so downright trivial to an outsider, but it was anything but. The same foods he had eaten for years suddenly tasted more flavorful with someone to share them with. She made food in the galley sometimes too, but even a shared ration bar during a fuel stop was another thing he cherished with her. It went without saying that they shared everything, but what could be more visceral, more life-affirming, than sharing food? Providing sustenance for someone you cared about wasn’t ever something he thought about, but it made him feel good in a weirdly masculine way to be able to provide quality food, not just ration packs, for her and the kid.</p><p>He also found himself tasting and trying new foods just because he loved hearing her predictable laughter when he hated them. He was overly dramatic about his displeasure to encourage her joking disapproval too. The ritual they had at mealtimes also spoke to him and his adoration of her. When off-ship she would collect lunch and bring it back, never eating without him since he couldn’t eat in public. Back on the ship they had developed a routine: Din sat facing the table head-on and Cara sat with her back turned in the chair to his side. She would keep the kid turned away in her lap feeding him bites of whatever she was eating so that his big shiny eyes couldn’t see around her to Din while he removed his helmet and ate along with them. Cara had grown quite adept at reaching blindly to her side where they shared what was on the plate equidistant from them both. He was able to share every meal with them now; a luxury he never dreamed he would have. For years he ate alone, often after others had finished, only getting to choose from what was left over and now he truly felt part of mealtimes.</p><p>It was never something they discussed, one day Cara just sat to his side and turned her back so they could eat together. They didn’t just eat, they <em>talked </em>about anything and nothing, and it was the most domestic thing he had never realized he missed out on until he suddenly had it everyday. ‘<em>People usually talked during a shared meal. Who knew?’ he thought.</em> He couldn’t voice what her unprompted gesture had meant to him but he occasionally caressed her hand when she reached toward the plate and she turned her hand over in open acknowledgement of his affectionate touch.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>This thing between them might have been unspoken but it wasn’t unfelt</p><p>He felt the warmth of her hand in his as they not only touched more but also lingered for longer.  Their own personal spaces grew closer and closer together until they overlapped a little, then more, until their circles of personal space practically laid atop one another. There were very few boundaries now and the overlap was growing every day until sometimes it was hard to remember where one stopped and the other began. They were good together and it just got better the closer they grew. They could fight of course; explosively at times with their hard-headed natures, but the only tension between them was the delicious promise-laden variety and that only had so long to go before it exploded as well.  She stepped into his embrace so effortlessly now that they seemed to be losing the need for an excuse to wrap their arms around one another. She had taken to pressing her face into the warm skin of his neck between his collarbone and his ear when they stood together before bed. The feel of her warm breath against his skin after a long day was the most wonderful feeling. It both calmed him and excited him in the same breath. Her mouth moving against his skin as she spoke felt like the tentative beginnings of what would evolve into a kiss and he had to keep himself still in order not to arch against her as her mouth moved over his neck. The first sleepy kiss she ever pressed sweetly into his skin would forever burn brightly in his memory.</p><p>After a hard-won battle or a near-miss they would fall into whoever’s bunk was the closest after shedding armor and checking one another closely for hidden injuries. Sometimes in bed they would gently touch each other in assurance they really escaped unscathed, and other times they would all but cling together when it had been a frighteningly close call. They frequently fell asleep wrapped in the warmth they created under a shared blanket and the kid seemed to revel in their new sleeping arrangement they had <em>never </em>(<em>surprise) talked about.</em> One day they just fell asleep next to one another and woke up in a tangle of limbs and that had been that. They might have had an argument for it being a product of seeking comfort after a shootout or raid successfully completed, except that they now slept like this on every other mundane night as well. The little guy who always struggled with bedtime fell asleep so easily now and stayed asleep all night as long as they were huddled together. Even during the day, they would feel especially bold from time to time and suggest a nap before crawling into bed side by side to share the tiny pillow. Neither of them ever suggested bringing in his pillow as well. They had no qualms about having to share her smaller one.</p><p>Before a mission, their hands moved worshipfully over each other in their ritual inspection of armor before they left the ship. Of course, Cara would take to this Mandalorian custom above all others. They always took it seriously and only after a true thorough test of armor integrity did they tease each other or grab at each other playfully.</p><p>After jobs, they patched each other up quickly and efficiently but their touch lingered along lean muscles and soft curves more than it used to. Medical care after battle was something Din was intimately familiar with, but it had never been like <em>this</em> in his thirty-plus years. The care and concern laced into her skilled and efficient touch was unmistakable. He hated seeing her in pain and he never knew his hands could move so nimbly or gracefully as when he when he stitched her up as gently as he could to reduce the discomfort caused by a needle and thread. She almost never nagged him or voiced her worry over his wellbeing, though she wasn’t afraid to call him an idiot when to took a risk she felt was reckless.</p><p> </p><p>When they sparred and had a perfectly good reason to be wrapped up in each other, the whole world was reduced to two types of touches: the touch pulled back at the last second versus the touch that lingered too long to be purely part of training. </p><p>When they trained and sparred on the mat, they were each hyperaware of their hands and where they were placed. Holding her thighs down as she squirmed to get free was made even more uncomfortable by the tightness of his pants as his body instinctually reacted to hers. It was as if the rest of his body knew how to move this along when their mouths failed them. In the off chance he pinned her hands over her head she would throw him off his game by slotting their fingers together until it wasn’t clear who was holding onto who as their palms sweated against each other’s. He had almost moaned the first time he couldn’t prevent himself from getting turned on as she straddled his waist. He had grown hard before he even realized what was happening and it was too late. Before he could throw her off and apologize profusely, she had just moaned into his neck and rocked her hips deliberately against him several times before rolling him over and starting the exercise over with a new gleam in her eye and smirk on her lips. When he managed to get her underneath him she had wrapped her legs around his waist and bucked her hips up against him until he answered her with his own desperate grind against the cradle of her hips that made her throw her head back in bliss at the sensation. He had never seen her mouth make that shape or her voice falter in such an erotic way before. If the kid hadn’t interrupted them that time, he’s not sure how he could have prevented himself from taking her right there on the floor. They hadn’t talked about that either, but their sparring session were decidedly more fun after that day.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t just the feeling of her heated skin underneath his that kept him up at night. It was the feeling of her things everywhere; the feeling of her voice in his head and the feeling of her presence everywhere in the ship that made him toss and turn at night. As much as it excited him in the quiet dark of his bunk, it scared him too. It was getting harder, <em>if not downright impossible</em>, to imagine doing any of this, <em>living</em> <em>this life</em>, without her now. Depending on someone like this was dangerous, but he couldn’t help it. They depended on <em>each other </em>now; that was different kind of dangerous right?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>This thing between them might have been unspoken but it wasn’t unseen.</p><p>He saw the way she looked at him; not just like someone she wanted on top of her but someone she wanted beside her.  Even with the helmet she would catch him staring from time to time and only smile back at him before continuing whatever it was she was doing. Sometimes she would bend lower or reach higher just to get a predictable reaction out of him. She seemed to revel in his reaction to her and it only made him bolder watching her without shame. She was a little shit sometimes too; <em>accidentally</em> dropping something right in front of him to have to bend down to retrieve it. Sometimes one of the kid’s colorful plastic spheres would happen to roll right by Din’s feet and she would crawl toward him to collect it with the neckline of her shirt hanging dangerously low and a grin on her lips as she felt him watching her. She looked like a predator stalking her prey and Din though back to his schooling days learning about the 3 Fs all mammals had engrained into their psyche. He definitely wasn’t thinking about <em>fighting</em> or <em>fleeing</em> when she looked at him like that…..</p><p> </p><p>That wasn’t the only look he had to contend with when he gazed at her though. The other look was loaded with so much affection he had to look away sometimes from its honest intensity. Often, he felt like he could see more than that written clearly across her face, plain as day; it wasn’t just affection or attraction, it was <em>love</em>. It was that <em>thing</em> they couldn’t talk about. He hoped even with the visor she could somehow see it on his face too, even though he knew it was physically impossible. <em>Cara Dune was never really bound by the laws of nature anyway; that was the only reasonable explanation to explain how she could look like she did or how see could through a quarter inch of Beskar like sheet-glass. </em></p><p>This thing between them was obvious to everyone they came across apparently as well. It wasn’t the first or even then tenth time people had assumed they were married. The baby they cared for together cemented it in people’s minds he supposed. Just the thought of her choosing him as her legitimate life partner made his chest feel hot and made him want to run his mouth in some assuredly embarrassing display of affection. They couldn’t even say the word ‘<em>love</em>’ regardless of how obvious it was becoming. ‘<em>One step at a time Din,</em>’ he thought to himself. He tried and failed to not think of how they already shared a bed, complete with sleepy neck kisses and wandering hands when they were warm and pliant with sleep.</p><p>
  <em>He was so screwed-it was already too late. It was like a dam had broken in his brain.</em>
</p><p>In the privacy of his own mind, he had gone from imagining what her voice would sound like moaning his name as he lost himself inside her to imagining what her voice would sound like trying to follow along with the words in his language that would bind them together…..</p><p>If<em> that</em> wasn’t bad enough, he began feeling the weirdest emotion he couldn’t catalogue looking at her holding their baby they were raising together and protecting from the evil of the galaxy at large. For someone who was so confident she didn’t do ‘the baby thing’, she did ‘the baby thing’ extremely well. <em>She was a natural.</em> Despite her no-nonsense demeanor in a fight or her serious face during negotiations, she was nothing but soft and gentle with the kid. He never even saw her raise her voice when he made a mess or threw up on her last pair of clean pants. At first Din thought his musings were just an interesting observation, but he found himself watching her more and more with Bean; trying to determine how much was natural maternal instinct and how much was thoughtful effort on her part. He wasn’t sure which aspect he was more impressed with to be honest; the effort she chose to put in and the skills she forced herself to learn for the kid’s betterment or the glimpses she allowed him to see of this naturally softer side to her she had consciously dampened all these years. He felt honored that she felt comfortable enough in his presence to let down her guard enough to let this other side of herself peer out cautiously when she didn’t think anyone was watching.</p><p>The softness she displayed overlaid with her strength created the most interesting dichotomy when he pictured her in his mind. ‘<em>How would he describe her to a total stranger?</em>’ he wondered.  It wasn’t as though she was a tough woman learning to be soft or a soft woman who had learned to be tough in a world that demanded it; she was just <em>both</em>, and he couldn’t imagine a more prefect woman suited to himself or a more perfect mother suited to the kid who was finally thriving under both her strength and nurturing. She was everything good that Din wasn’t and nothing unsavory that Din felt himself to be. Their similarities in every other aspect of their life perfectly filled in the gaps; their bravery, their humor, their priorities, and everything else. How he could have found someone so <em>like</em> him and yet <em>better </em>at the same time was a mystery to ponder another day…</p><p>When his thoughts naturally drifted watching her cuddling the kid, he sometimes found himself wondering what she would look like holding a different baby as well; one with a more human shape wrapped in the same blanket she held at this very moment as she paced the floor trying to get Bean to sleep. Would she hold them the same or differently? Would she smooth her hand over its head the same way she did Bean? Would she touch their little shell-shaped ears with the same loving caress she swept the kids long tapered sensitive ears with? Would she be as attentive to their little plaintive cries or was it just Bean’s coos she was so attuned to? He tried and failed to not think of himself and Cara watching on in proud amazement at little chunky thighs and tiny fists that batted the air as this tiny person in his mind’s eye learned to control them. In his imagination maybe the baby had a tuft of downy dark hair. He could clearly see dark eyes and chubby hands that grabbed for him when he entered the room. Maybe they’d be blessed with the shape of her mouth but his lips. Cara’s eyes too perhaps, but maybe with more flecks of brown like his. Maybe the imagined little nugget’s dark hair would have her thickness but a hint of his curls around their ears. The kid they were raising adored her, that much as clear, and if there were ever another addition they would adore her too. He didn’t know where this line of thoughts had even come from but he thought about more and more the longer the three of them spent together.</p><p> </p><p>If there was something that Din had learned since meeting the two most important people in his life, it was that the ability to love wasn’t something you either had or didn’t have. <em>It was a choice, a process.</em> Its potential wasn’t fixed and its volume wasn’t finite. He never thought he could love another person like he loved his son, but wherever that feeling came from he knew there could be more if another came along; either another foundling or a child they created together. Neither one of them had ever considered having a family before, but now that they had one it seemed so natural to want more. <em>He never knew he could be so greedy.</em> He went from having nothing to <em>something</em>, and then from <em>something</em> to <em>everything</em>. Now he wanted <em>more </em>and it seemed Cara did as well. Cara all but admitted she was in it with Din and the kid for the long haul and that admission had been the key to opening the floodgate of thoughts he had prevented himself from thinking for months. The way she looked at the kid changed everything. This thing they were building was looking frightening like a real family and it no longer scared him like it used to.</p><p> </p><p>It had been hard when they had left Nevarro. Both Din and the kid had felt off balance without her presence bustling around the ship. It had seemed eerily quiet with just the two of them again and he felt lonelier now than he did over years of traveling alone. When they had returned weeks later, the kid’s ears had perked up as soon he saw her walking toward the ship even from a considerable distance. She had bumped her should against Din’s before catching the kid mid-leap into her arms. They were both glad the kid’s antics pardoned them from having to suffer through awkward words about how relived they were to see one another again.</p><p>Besides being a cute ice-breaker, the kid had many other talents to boast. Not only did he have this supernatural ability to see the good in people but he made you want to be better as well.  He had obviously seen the good in Cara the first time he allowed her to hold him that night as he fell asleep. She must have passed whatever vetting process he had because after the first time he went to her constantly. Din was almost jealous at first until he saw the secretly adoring look on Cara’s face as she realized the kid sought her out. She spoiled him and doted on him and it wasn’t just because he was Din’s charge. She loved the kid too and it didn’t take long at all before he couldn’t remember a time where she wasn’t with them.</p><p>They took turns putting him to sleep but Din couldn't fault the kid for wanting to cuddle up on her chest instead of his. It <em>was</em> the most comfortable place to sleep Din had ever seen. He still couldn’t think about the first time he was sick and they shared a bed without fighting down a rising heat up his neck. He had been so sick that Cara had been legitimately concerned with his breathing and insisted she sleep next to him to, <em>in her words</em>, “make sure he lived through the night.” Sleeping next to someone wasn’t act he had a wealth of experience with but he was pretty sure groping your bed mate in the night wasn’t what she signed up for so he scooted as far away from her as he could while still feeling her warmth against his sweaty skin. He made sure to keep his distance as he fell asleep, but he woke up with his head resting on her bosom, his arms wrapped around her like one of those saltwater-dwelling octopus creatures he had read about. <em>No wonder he slept so well.</em></p><p>He apologized profusely before Cara stopped him and said she had pulled him to rest on her chest so he could breathe better. “You must have appreciated the change in angle because your breathing evened out and you slept much deeper when you weren’t flat.” <em>Yeah, of course he did, he couldn’t remember sleeping on a more comfortable ‘distinctly not flat’ surface in his life.</em> “Go back to sleep. You need it,” she said in the dark, as she smoothed his hair down where it brushed the top of his neck. She encouraged him to lay back down and she seemed totally at ease with him resting on her so intimately. The only giveaway that she was hyperaware of their new and intimate arrangement of bodies came from feeling her heartbeat fluttering quickly under his ear as it pressed against her chest.</p><p>As much as he wanted to argue and pull away embarrassed, she simply felt too good to resist.  She had her hand resting against the back of his head and as soon as he felt her fingers stroke through his sweaty hair, he was a goner. He threw an arm back over her stomach and fell right back to sleep against the soft skin of her breasts where her shirt had ridden down in the night. They hadn’t mentioned it the next day, but he could remember her smell and the way she felt underneath him for weeks. It wasn’t until several weeks later that they slept next to one another again, but it felt so much like coming home after the first time that they both slept through the night without tossing or turning once. For two light-sleepers with more than enough night terrors to share between them, it was an unprecedented change for the better.</p><p>There were other things too that Din tried not to focus on that spoke louder than their words ever could; watching her feeding the kid and playing with him on the floor, for example. Watching the look of genuine pride on her face when their fuzzy boy solved a puzzle on his own and the fierce protective mask she wore when someone tried to get close to him made Din’s chest ache. It was impossible to fake such an instinctual drive to protect your own and the fact that they were becoming a family even without voicing it aloud didn’t escape him. The other thing they didn’t talk about was what that meant regarding hard decisions that might have to be made one horrible day in the future. She’d throw herself on a live grenade for that kid and while it should make him happy she loved him that selflessly, it scared the shit out of him more. Even thinking about Cara protecting the kid with her life wasn’t something Din could dwell on without feeling sick. He could see the same dark look cross Cara’s beautiful features every time he took a shot in defense of their small green bean as well.</p><p>Feelings were hard, but finding words to convey them were even harder, so they continued as they always had….. The quiet times they shared talking with their body language were always his favorite anyway.</p><p>How much longer could they really go before one of them broke their silence? The words left unsaid couldn’t stay unsaid forever, of that he was sure. It was the most high-stakes game of chicken in the history of mankind. Everything was on the line, but he felt sure they would both win if and when they finally took the gamble. One of them would call the other’s bluff and he couldn’t wait to see which one it would be. ‘<em>Is it possible to bet against yourself</em>?’ he thought amusedly.</p><p>How could he even begin to broach the topic in a non-life-and-death situation? Would she understand what he was trying to say? <em>She always understood him.</em> The universal and unquestioning understanding she had shown him had been the most precious gift he ever received. Not only that, but the understanding she inspired him to feel within himself- to not be so hard on himself and to change what he could and accept what he couldn’t -that was the real gift.  Maybe he could start small, with something she gave him, and see how it goes. Maybe if he told her how much he admired something small, he could work his way up to something bigger and eventually get to what really mattered.</p><p>Her patience with the kid- that was safe. He could start there and see where it leads.</p><p>“Hey Cara,” he calls out to her where she’s helping the kid stack blocks. She’s using her hands but he’s decidedly not….</p><p>She looks up at him from the floor and slings her hair out of her face to see him better. “Yeah, what’s up?”</p><p>He promptly chickened out, seeing her beautiful face. “Nothing, nevermind….” he said, and kind of trailed off.  “It’s just….. you’re really good with him. He’s getting better everyday with you helping him. I don’t say ‘thank you’ enough, that’s all.”</p><p>She smiled a real and knowing smile at him. “Is that really <em>all</em> you wanted to say? Are you sure?” She was too perceptive for her own good. That, or he had been staring at her so hard she could feel it through Beskar and fifteen feet of empty cabin.</p><p>“No, actually,” he said, as her smile gave him the courage he had been lacking.</p><p>He took a breath. “Cara, you got a minute….? There’s something I've wanted to talk to you about.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading !<br/>I hope you'll leave a comment if you enjoyed :)</p><p>I might be able to squeeze the last prompt in right before the cutoff. I'll see.</p><p>Side note: I WILL reply to the comments from the last one, I promise. Work has been nuts, but I won't forget :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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